


If I ring, would you answer?

by NicePlaceToBe



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - No Powers, F/M, Flirting, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Just a little bit of fun, because i am and i can't imagine anything else, its a little awkward, no one's related, pizza delivery, some feel-good vibes before season 2
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-13
Updated: 2020-07-13
Packaged: 2021-03-05 03:48:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,434
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25237981
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/NicePlaceToBe/pseuds/NicePlaceToBe
Summary: “Oh, fuck off, Ben!”Five blinked. The woman behind the door, however, didn’t seem to pause.“You know I hate that thing, and between you and Klaus you seem to think you’re comedians, ringing it every single time when you know damn well the door is-”As Vanya yanked the door open in her best pair of sweats, her eyes went wide; the words from her rant died on her lips. That was not Ben. Fuck.Or:Five delivers pizza, Vanya rants and her doorbell shrieks, but they work it out in the end.
Relationships: Allison Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Ben Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Klaus Hargreeves & Vanya Hargreeves, Number Five | The Boy/Vanya Hargreeves
Comments: 9
Kudos: 333
Collections: The umbrella academy





	If I ring, would you answer?

**Author's Note:**

> This is just a little fluffy fic that I thought was kind of a fun idea- and since it's obvious how desperate we all are for Fiveya, I figure anything I post will probably get read by at least by a few people who are as nervous about season 2 as I am!
> 
> I'm trying to get all my plot bunnies out before the next season drops- just in case. I'm excited that it looks like they're including a little more of the comics, and definitely interested to see how that plays with everything from season 1, but I'm just really hoping that all my fears are unfounded! 
> 
> Anyway, let me know what you guys think- both of the fic and the looming season 2!

Five was not what anyone would call a ‘people person’. He was rude, he was sarcastic, he wasn’t good at small talk and Five liked it that way.

Unfortunately, as all well and good this was in theory, there were a few issues with being socially awkward. Namely, as a PhD student with (to be fair, minimal thanks to a few scholarships) student debt piling up and very few viable sources of income, customer service was the most accessible.

So, much as he hated it, for as many shifts as he could get a week, Five pasted on a customer friendly smile, did his best to turn off any sense of pride and ignore his internal calculations- which indicated towards him being able to pay off his debts by the time he was forty- and delivered pizzas across town.

Admittedly, mustering any sense of pride was difficult when, by most of the customers, he was treated like a packhorse at best, but usually as a nuisance. Which, personally, Five found a bit insulting since he was _bringing them pizza_ , though he could understand not wanting to talk to someone, no matter how much food they brought with them.

Still, knowing that didn’t make mediocre tips and long nights for research lost any better.

That was why it was always with some air of resentment that Five showed up to work, knowing that he was underpaid and underappreciated. Customers were just part of the job, and weird ones were par for the course.

So it was with no high hopes that Five entered a dingy building, soggy cardboard box in hand; the elevator was out of order- because _of course_ it was- so Five started the climb, grimly hoping the tip would be worth it, and knowing that it wouldn’t be.

On the second level, Five checked the address- this was the place. Get in, get out, on to the next job. Just like every other job. Simple.

Pausing before the door, Five steadied the pizza in one hand, reaching out with the other to knock when something else caught his attention. Changing course, he pressed the little doorbell- it seemed a little redundant to have one in an apartment building, but Five wasn’t exactly in a position to piss off the customer by pointing that out; he’d generally found that pissing people off reduced tips.

The resulting noise was nothing short of a cat being strangled, put up several octaves and garbled with shaky radio frequencies. In short, it was an unholy shriek that made Five wince, but almost as soon as it began, he heard a groan coming from inside the apartment.

“Oh, fuck _off_ , Ben!”

Five blinked. That was not par for the course. The woman behind the door, however, didn’t seem to pause.

“You _know_ I hate that thing, and between you and Klaus you seem to think you’re comedians, ringing it every _single_ time when you know damn well the door is-”

The disembodied voice, which had been growing louder by degrees, was suddenly replaced with quiet as the door flew open to reveal a petite woman, who seemed to fall into silence out of surprise.

Vanya would like to say that she had not been having a good day. In fact, she’d been having a pretty horrible week.

It wasn’t so much that anything had happened- it hadn’t been a strange week. It had just been long and arduous; teaching lessons was onerous, thinking about the bills piling up was impossible and the tightness around her lungs that kept her awake at night seemed to be a permanent thing now. Add onto this that all the practice she’d been doing for her audition in an orchestra as violin one was completely useless, since she still couldn’t get the _stupid_ _semiquaver_ _part_ \- to put it simply, Vanya was tired.

But she had been counting down until the end of the week; now she had two days to get her whole life in order and learn the piece for orchestra and just generally not feel like a disaster- or, unfortunately more likely, do absolutely nothing. Still, she had the choice, and that was not something Vanya took lightly.

So Vanya had made the (probably bad) life choice to waste her Friday night with Ben over pizza while they watched the shitty lifestyle show that came on every Friday at 7.30 so they could make fun of people who a) had money to burn and b) thought that painting every wall navy was a stylistic choice that would really “liven the place up”- in Ben’s words, “if you’re going to be emo, at least _acknowledge_ that it’s an emo lifestyle choice”. 

But when she heard that _infuriating_ doorbell, she hadn’t hesitated to rip into one of her best and oldest friends because Ben knew how much she hated it and yet he always pressed it and _just because Klaus does it, doesn’t mean you should, you idiot._ At this point, it was a standard interaction between them.

What was not standard was that, as Vanya yanked the door open in her best pair of sweats, her eyes went wide; the words from her rant died on her lips. That was not Ben. _Fuck._

“I am _so_ sorry- I thought you were someone else and I wasn’t expecting anyone-”

“I have your pizza,” he wiggled the box a little to emphasise his point. “And I’m Five, not Ben.” ( _Gee Five, try being more blunt? Why not, you’re already getting no tips from this job.)_

Vanya wanted to _die._

Talking to the takeaway guy was bad enough- that was why she usually compromised with Ben that she would set up the TV while he dealt with the delivery guy. But verbally abusing him through a door? Vanya was never going to be able to eat pizza again without melting from embarrassment; or, at the very least, pizza from this particular place- which shouldn’t be a problem since she had just vowed to never order from there again.

Realising she needed to respond to him, Vanya distractedly replied “Vanya,” before seizing her bag from the couch behind her, both to find the money to pay the poor guy and to avoid making eye contact.

“What?” Five asked, hearing the woman mumble something while she dug through her bag. This was definitely one of the easier weird customers he’d had.

“Oh, sorry. I was just saying I’m Vanya.” She glanced up.

(Five doesn’t think there’s been a time before or since that he felt that same breathless awkwardness as he did then- because something about the way the light caught her eyes and her hair fell from her dishevelled ponytail made Five suddenly feel like he had been winded.)

(Vanya hated that, once again, this… _person_ had left her speechless- because how was it fair that someone could be so devastatingly attractive while she was wearing tracksuit pants and had just embarrassed herself so thoroughly? And yet, why couldn’t she tear her eyes from his?)

In an effort to break the weird tension that he was pretty sure she was feeling too, Five cleared his throat- why did he feel so weird? He’d had plenty of pretty customers, but they’d been just that- customers. Something about _Vanya_ felt different.

(Or maybe Five was a sucker for some kind of disaster, just like Vanya was.)

Vanya shook herself- _how about we try not being a human train wreck for a night, Vanya?_

“So, how much do I owe you?” Desperate to end this terrible interaction, Vanya finally found her wallet and pulled out whatever bill was closest. “You know what, just take this and keep the change. Consider it a tip- or a bribe, to not tell you manager I accidentally yelled at you.”

Five’s eyebrows shot up in surprise, as he passed her the pizza and- though he knew it was stupid and he could feel the pragmatist in him screaming not to ask- Five couldn’t leave it alone. “You do know you could afford like another pizza and a half with this. Giving it to me is a waste of money.”

Vanya laughed wryly. “You’re very honest for someone benefitting from this-” Five shrugged at this and Vanya couldn’t help her lips quirking at such a response, “-and you can’t waste what you don’t have.”

Five suppressed a smile- she was blunt. That didn’t mean he could be though- he was on the clock- so he murmured his automatic response under his breath, “I wouldn’t have guessed, what with this luxurious accommodation. Not that I really have anything to brag about though.”

Five hadn’t counted on Vanya’s hearing being sharp and well-attuned to hearing more subtle cues.

“You this blunt with all your customers?” Vanya asked, as she leaned against the doorframe.

She hardly knew where her confidence came from; Vanya felt her face flush- though not from embarrassment. On the contrary, she wasn’t ashamed of where she lived; she was proud she was supporting herself, and Vanya found a small bit of fondness in knowing her apartment was a little war-torn- a little like the attachment someone develops for their first car, because it may be a shit-box, but it’s _theirs._

Vanya didn’t take offence- she couldn’t help but feel as if this exchange were more a tennis match than anything.

(Some conversations were heavy- with repetition, formalities, unspoken intentions and emotions that could hardly be carried in a few simple words. But Vanya liked the conversations best where it was a quick back and forward- lively and witty and maybe not as meaningful at a first glance, but built something humorous, something fun from the exchange. Those conversations- the ones she had with Klaus and Ben and Allison, where it was about the response and the rally, not the result; those conversations were like tennis.)

Five felt it too.

“Call honesty my fatal flaw,” Five shot Vanya a quick smirk that made her feel warm for another reason entirely. “But really, thank you.” He paused for just a second longer, wishing he could remember something he was meant to say. Instead, he just came up with a weak, “Have a good night.”

“You too,” Vanya replied, trying to ignore the way her heart was pounding as she closed the door and flopped onto the couch, exhausted from the social anxiety.

She was _never_ answering the door again.

Just then, the cat shriek rang out once more.

“Ben, I swear if that’s you-”

“Why wouldn’t it be me? Who else would it be?” Ben asked, laughing as he opened the door. “Oh, pizza’s here. Did I miss the guy?”

Vanya sent him a look- she just knew he was going to find this hilarious.

(He did. In fact, he almost pissed himself as he recounted it over the phone to Klaus- and Vanya just _knew_ this wasn’t going to be the end of it).

-

And Vanya was right; that was very much _not_ the end of it.

Next week, Ben was purposefully late. Vanya was seriously considering cancelling the order just so she wouldn’t have to talk to someone (to Five, but what were the chances he’d be working tonight, let alone that he would be tasked with her order again? They had to be low, right?)- when she heard someone knock.

No one ever knocked- usually they would ring the stupid and _pointless_ doorbell, especially her friends. So it was with some caution that Vanya opened the door, half-expecting to see children who couldn’t reach the doorbell or a serial killer with a flair for the dramatic. She drew up short when she recognised who it was.

(Of _course,_ it would be him. Why would Vanya think her luck any different? And naturally she had to verbally assault one of the most handsome men she’d ever seen in her life, with a jawline that looked like it could cut glass and eyes that made it a little hard to think- because why would the universe give Vanya a free pass when this was so much more fun?)

“Hi, you ordered pizza,” Five held it out to her.

And here was where Vanya’s fantastic social skills and talent for picking up social cues _really_ shone. Instead of saying anything that was remotely related to what he had said, the words dropped from her lips before she could catch them and turn them into something a little less obvious: “You knocked.”

Five quirked a brow. “I figured after last time, I probably shouldn’t press the buzzer…”

And, of course, he would remember that.

“Right, sorry about that, I just hate that thing,” Vanya replied hastily. “Thanks for coming back, even after that.”

“You already apologised; you don’t need to do it again. Besides, that was the most exciting part of my night.” Five really had to fight to keep that lilt of wry humour out of his words.

Blush stained Vanya’s cheeks- _again_ , dammit, why did he fluster her so easily? She just managed to stop herself from saying ‘sorry’ _about_ saying sorry, reaching to grab her wallet to pay him, when he continued.

“So, why have the doorbell if you hate it?”

Vanya grimaced. “It came with the apartment, if you’d believe it. Apparently, the previous tenant installed it and then couldn’t un-install it when she moved out. Probably strategic, in my opinion.”

Five laughed. “If it annoys you that much, then couldn’t you just disconnect it?”

“I tried,” Vanya lamented, glad to have someone ask about the atrocity that haunted her otherwise peaceful existence. “It connects to the main power system- the woman before me sounds like she was very dedicated to making sure this doorbell works for eternity. I don’t think I could cut the wire without risking taking down the power grid for the whole apartment building.”

“So you’re destined to have that bell as long as you live here?”

Vanya shrugged, rifling through to find the right notes to pay him with. “Apparently so. And my _delightfully_ supportive friends have taken it upon themselves to ring it as often as humanly possible-”

“Oh, Vanya, you know you love me,” Ben appeared at the top of the stairs. Catching sight of Five, he grinned. “Is this the guy you thought was me?”

Vanya glared daggers at Ben, while Five took in the exchange. “Well, he’s early. Five might even possess something called a _watch_ \- you heard of it?”

Ben shrugged and smiled guilelessly. “My boss clearly hasn’t heard of those either. I have heard of a toilet though, so if you wouldn’t mind-”

Ben passed between them, nodding to Five and raising an eyebrow at Vanya, before disappearing into Vanya’s apartment.

“So that was Ben.”

“That was my friend, Ben,” Vanya affirmed, holding out the cash to Five. “I think this is about right?”

_She didn’t have a boyfriend_. Five tried not to think about why that made his blood rush all the faster.

He nodded, passing her the pizza, but before he put away the cash, he had to ask. “You remembered my name.”

Once again, Vanya cursed the heat rising in her cheeks. “I mean, I don’t exactly make a habit of yelling at minimum wage workers; I was looking out for the harassment complaint. But I’m pretty ordinary so I doubt you remember mine-”

Five gave her a look at that- one that Vanya would remember as sending her stomach alight- with a small, but sincere, smile. “I get the feeling you’d be very difficult to forget, Vanya.”

Vanya hoped he couldn’t see how much that affected her, even as she scrambled to find any words to fill the silence.

Five was suddenly struck with the remembrance of what he had forgotten to say last week. “Thank you for choosing Pete’s Pizza Palace,” he recited, deadpan- _you need this job, Five, don’t roll your eyes, sell your soul for minimum wage._ “We hope you order again soon.”

“You too,” Vanya nodded and closed the door. She spun to face Ben, biting back a grin, before the conversation computed.

Once, just once, she would really like _not_ to be a disaster.

Outside, Five grinned. That was cute.

Inside Vanya’s apartment, he heard someone start laughing.

“Shut up, Ben.”

Five let himself laugh as he flew down the stairs, still smiling widely.

(He was already looking forward to next week.)

-

And because Ben couldn’t keep his _damn_ mouth shut, the saga continued. A week later, Vanya found herself with three friends now invading her apartment.

Vanya did her best to keep close with all her friends from college- she caught up with Allison over drinks and talk about her boyfriend, Luther; she and Klaus got coffee every week, and sometimes Diego would tag along to make fun of both Vanya and Klaus for their dependence on the drink.

But Ben was easier- he understood that Vanya didn’t always want to go out and do things, though Ben was definitely better at the whole ‘being social’ thing. So somehow, Friday nights watching Tara doing horrible interior designing had become a tradition- at this point, Vanya was convinced she and Ben could collaborate to make the worst decorated house in existence solely from their intensive study of that one show.

Still, the night was always open for other people, so it wasn’t uncommon for Allison or Klaus to drop by- this time, though, it wasn’t just a want to watch someone slowly lose the will to live as they desperately tried preaching the virtues of DIY furniture makeovers and guessing how many times a particular store would be name-dropped. This time, it was a combined want to torture Vanya.

“You guys _really_ don’t need to be here- I know you had a date tonight, Allison, and Klaus, I know you’re easily more fashionable than all these people put together.”

“That’s true- I _am_ the height of fashion,” Klaus struck a pose in the doorway to Vanya’s kitchen as Allison tried to manoeuvre around him with the wine glasses. “Don’t you agree, Allison?”

“Yes, Klaus, you’re the epitome of style and all I aspire to be. And no, Luther and I didn’t have a date tonight,” Allison directed her second sentence over Klaus’s shoulder to Vanya, who was very determinedly sitting on the couch and trying to convince her friends not to do this.

Klaus continued, “But, we’re just here for pizza and to spend some quality time together, Vanya.”

Vanya didn’t bother to hide her disbelief. “I’m calling bull on that one.”

Klaus threw a hand to his chest, looking offended, while Vanya, Allison and Ben exchanged raised eyebrows and rolled eyes.

Klaus sighed, giving up the dramatics. “Fine, I- no, _we,”_ he gestured to Allison and Ben, “were curious. I’ve never heard of Vanya getting flustered so badly around _one_ delivery guy.”

“I was _not_ flustered. And you should check your sources, since Ben wasn’t even technically there,” Vanya replied hotly.

“I could hear you! And I _saw_ him, Vanya- he was definitely your type. I think your blush said enough, anyway,” Ben sing-songed from the kitchen.

“Didn’t think I asked you, Ben,” Vanya called back. “So, who’s going to get the pizza?”

The deafening silence was enough of an answer, but Klaus couldn’t resist.

“Well, Vanya dear, we didn’t come all the way over here to not watch you flounder in front of the hot delivery guy-”

“I _never_ said he was hot!” Vanya protested- she _really_ hated that Ben was such a snitch and that she felt like a schoolgirl. Vanya tried to ignore the arch looks coming from all sides.

Vanya was an adult, damn it- she had a job, bills to pay… incorrigible matchmakers who enjoyed her pain as friends, and a crush on the delivery boy, apparently. How embarrassing- not only to be teased by her friends (that was standard, and Vanya gave as good as she got) but to be dreading a two minute conversation with someone who was just doing their job- _with_ _Five_ , her mind unhelpfully supplied.

She wouldn’t call herself antisocial, but Vanya had always found she wasn’t good at small talk. A lot of the time, Vanya just seemed to make things awkward because she couldn’t find the right words- and, as a result, more times than she liked to admit, Vanya couldn’t shake the anxiety that tightened around her lungs and tied her tongue into knots.

There was a reason she usually asked Ben or one of her other friends to order. And now, it looked like that strategy was going down like a lead balloon.

Vanya couldn’t help but think she may need some new friends.

When Five got the order for pizza to the same place as the last two weeks, he was- a lot more excited than he should have been.

But there was something about _Vanya_ \- she was smart. Funny. Generous. Obviously beautiful; and there was something intriguing about her. Something that made Five want to see her again, to learn everything there was to know about her.

So Five was curious- sue him.

He liked banter, he liked someone who could keep up with him, who was just as much of a smart ass as he was. And Five got the feeling from Vanya- he loved her name, it was a little eccentric, just like his (and just like she was)- and from her rant that she was a force to be reckoned with.

Approaching her door, he could hear the muffled sound of voices. Remembering her reaction from the first time- and wanting to make a better impression this time (God, what was wrong with him? Vanya was a _customer_ )- Five steered clear of ringing the doorbell from hell, instead knocking loudly.

See, the thing about shitty apartments in the less attractive parts of town is that the people building them often want to save as much money as possible- and it was long established that walls could be thin as paper and still serve their primary purpose as a divider between rooms. The only trade-off with this tactic- other than saving money in exchange for compromising some structural integrity (but if the building inspectors don’t cite it, it’s all fair game)- is that you can hear _everything_ through the walls.

You could be standing out in the corridor and still hear the conversation inside an apartment, especially if the people in the apartment had exuberant and _loud_ friends. So, Five didn’t even have to strain to hear the discussion inside Vanya’s apartment.

Five could distinguish a man saying, “Alright Vanya, off you go,” which was followed by a groan.

“Klaus, come on. Will you please get it?” Five recognised Vanya’s voice and tried to pretend his heart hadn’t just leapt.

“I’ll ‘scissor-paper-rock’ you for it,” Klaus, Five assumed, compromised.

“Best of three?” Vanya asked hopefully

“Best of one.” Another voice intruded.

Vanya’s sarcasm was obvious. “Thank you, Ben, oh so very much.”

Still, Vanya didn’t object to his terms, and a few seconds of tense silence followed.

Until the sound of whooping and laughter- interspersed with a little swearing from Vanya- broke the emptiness in the air. “All yours, Vanya!” Klaus sounded elated, and Vanya evidently decided there would be no help from that quarter

“I will _pay_ you to get it, Ben.”

Ben laughed. “No way- you lost scissor, paper, rock, you have to get it.”

“Allison, please?”

“Sorry, Vanya,” ‘Allison’ sounded regretful, but clearly not very.

Vanya was desperate, “Is there _anything_ I can do to get out of this? Please don’t make me do this.” That one hurt a little- Five wasn’t _that_ bad, was he?

“It’s good for you, Vanya,” Klaus claimed, voice getting louder until the door was thrown open and Vanya was unceremoniously shoved into view.

She shot a nasty glare over her shoulder before turning to Five.

“Hi Five, sorry, if you’ll just let me get the money-” Vanya’s friends clearly needed no further introduction, appearing behind Vanya to offer money while giving Five an appraising eye.

Another woman- Allison, Five assumed- raised an eyebrow before smiling as she passed her share to Vanya. Ben nodded in recognition to Five before dropping his money into Vanya’s hands, grinning at her slightly. A man who Five did not recognise, however, took a less subtle approach.

“So _you’re_ Five,” he grinned, slipping his money into Vanya’s outstretched hands and tossing an arm around her, clearly very comfortable. “I’m Klaus, Vanya’s very best friend and fashion advocate, though she won’t take my advice on the blue denim jeans- the very end of style-”

Vanya elbowed Klaus. He liked to do this to any of his friend’s potential love interests, to see if they could keep up with his near constant stream of chatter. It was a fairly good indication if they’d be able to keep up with any of them though, since they all took Klaus’s enthusiasm in their stride. It seemed like she didn’t need to worry about Five though, since he was already nodding.

“I know nothing about fashion,” Five said frankly, “but I like your skirt.”

“Oh, thank you,” Klaus gave a little swish of his skirt as he smiled; Five had passed.

Then Five smirked, sensing an opportunity. “I am curious how you knew _my_ name though, since I don’t believe we’ve met before.”

Klaus opened his mouth, obviously delighted to have such a perfect set-up to get Vanya a date, when Vanya pushed him out of the frame.

“Well, we’ve all met Five now, no time for stories or reminiscing,” Vanya cut in, adding her own amount to the money before passing it to Five.

Now, Five had been waiting a week to shoot his shot- Vanya was funny and smart, but Five had been unsure about if she found him as interesting as he found her. If he asked her out but she said no… Five really didn’t want to have to keep delivering pizza if she said no. That would just be a little too awkward.

But judging from her friend’s responses- and hopefully he was reading the interaction he’d overheard correctly- Five could only hope he wasn’t wrong.

“You know, I’m pretty good with electronics. If you wanted, I could have a go at disconnecting that doorbell next week?”

By the next Friday, Vanya would be singing Five’s praises. Her doorbell would be disconnected, though not thrown away. She kept it, on a whim- and, one day, it hung at the door of an apartment that they would call _theirs._


End file.
